


never stopped to think they might have lives beyond our lives

by transpapyrus



Series: The Holosquad Saga [2]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Picard
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Loyalty, M/M, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-06
Updated: 2020-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:29:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23036311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transpapyrus/pseuds/transpapyrus
Summary: La Sirena's Emergency Holograms do, contrary to their Captain's belief, have lives of their own. Lives, as well as names, feelings, and plenty of unwanted emotions. This is the story of how just a few of those came to be.
Relationships: (also this could be ENH/EMH if u squint), (it's mentioned anyway), Agnes Jurati/Cristóbal Rios, Cristóbal Rios & La Sirena's Emergency Navigational Hologram, La Sirena's Emergency Navigational Hologram & La Sirena's Emergency Medical Hologram
Series: The Holosquad Saga [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1655560
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	never stopped to think they might have lives beyond our lives

**Author's Note:**

> There's a LOT in this fic. I'll give more explanation at the end. All you really need to know now is that it jumps around a little in time, but it should be easy to follow. Also, this fits into the same universe as my other holosquad-centric fic, but that one isn't necessary to understand this one. Enjoy!
> 
> UPDATE as of 3/12:  
> Welp. Now they all have names. And we have a new holo. I'll probably do a rewrite of this fic to incorporate the changes in canon, but at this point, please consider what follows to be canon divergent.

_ La Sirena _ ’s system clock said it was 0500 hours. The perfect time to be alone on the bridge when you’re a navigational hologram just trying to do your job and please your captain and not  _ bother _ anyone. Not that he’s ever cared about being a bother before. He would come and go at will, or when summoned (and dismissed) by the Captain. Their little setup was… unconventional, but no one was complaining. And the ENH found that he liked things like this. Quiet. Just Rios and a handful of holograms. It wasn’t often that he opened up to anyone, nor did he care to socialize onboard. But in the rare moment that he did — or when he needed an opponent for  _ futsal —  _ the ENH made it a point to be there.

He couldn’t explain it if he tried. All their programming demanded of them is that they keep the ship functioning. The EMH was the closest perhaps to someone required to  _ care _ for the Captain, but even then, is it really caring if everything he does follows system prompts and codes? The rest of them actually tended to  _ avoid _ the Captain as much as they could. His feelings for his holograms ranged from “would hang out with but only if I’m plastered” (the Tactical Hologram) to “if I even see you near me I’ll destroy your emitter and wipe your programming” (the Hospitality Hologram). The ENH liked to think he fell somewhere squarely in between the two.

Regardless of how often Rios deactivated his holograms if they made the mistake of materializing when he was in a bad mood, the ENH still found him fascinating. He would observe him quietly sometimes, unseen. He did research on him, or tried to — there was nothing to find. And he cherished those times where he  _ was _ needed, if only so he could spend a few minutes talking to the Captain. 

None of them had the privilege of running continuously for any great length of time, unlike the EMH Mark I on  _ Voyager _ . But their security protocols which allowed them to appear unsummoned if an emergency was detected could be easily overwritten, and in time, they found ways to activate on their own even without reason. They still did their best to stay out of the Captain’s way, but when they weren’t busy they’d spend time together talking or playing games in the holodeck, or just downloading new information and programming into their systems to expand their knowledge and performance functions. 

This is how the ENH came to spend his nights on the bridge, piloting the ship alone. He didn’t need to. The autonav systems were sufficient to handle a few hours unmonitored, and he would be automatically activated should  _ La Sirena _ encounter any unexpected issues. But he found he liked the quiet, and so it became a habit.

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were” A voice interrupted his thoughts, and the ENH quickly around to see who the intruder was. He could only imagine that the disappointed look on Jurati’s face was reflected in his own expression as well. “Oh. Deactivate ENH.”

* * *

Cristóbal Rios hated himself.

That’s the logical conclusion the emergency holograms under his command have drawn, anyway. What other explanation could he have for creating them in his own image, only to treat them like garbage? Holograms, at least Starfleet’s use of them, have evolved significantly since the early days of Zimmerman’s work. After the Doctor was acknowledged as a fully autonomous and sentient being, it seemed that all holograms, even those created for emergency use only, should be regarded as people.

Rios’ mistreatment of his holograms had nothing to do with them not being alive. It had  _ everything _ to do with seeing them as  _ him _ .

Hence the problem.

But self-loathing aside, the strange crew all seemed to get on just fine. The freighter was small, and Rios spent his time alone, holograms deactivated unless he needed them. There were few opportunities for them to interact or expand their programming, but they made the best of it. Despite wanting to believe that he could maintain a ship to Starfleet standards on his own, Rios wasn’t stupid. He modified the holographic systems, fitting them with versatile mobile emitters so that they could activate on their own if triggered by an emergency on the ship (or with him). And from there, the holograms found ways of initiating their own activations without a standard prompt or response summons. For the most part, they stayed out of the Captain’s hair and took care of the ship so that he was free to travel planetside to hit up bars, take on cargo deliveries, and occasionally shuttle around civilians running from the law. Or to just sit in his quarters alone and read books on existentialist philosophy and the meaninglessness of life and death. Casual, fun, perfectly normal things for someone who  _ doesn’t _ hate themself to be doing.

There were, on rare occasions, times when he didn’t seem to mind the company of his holograms. If he was lonely but not in a particularly sour mood, or actually feeling social, he’d summon one to kick around a soccer ball with. Or he’d activate one to run diagnostics and just… not deactivate them after, instead allowing some light conversation (until of course the hologram said something he didn’t like, at which point they’d be deactivated and probably not seen again unless there was a real emergency). And sometimes, if he was on the bridge and wanted to let loose a little, he’d activate the Emergency Tactical Hologram to fly with him.

The ETH was perhaps the most similar to Rios himself. In appearance, he differed wildly from the other holograms who all donned near-replica clothing (a different color sweater here, a different style jacket there) and neatly combed hair. He dressed in all black, had long messy hair, and tattoos up and down both arms. It was obvious that when personalizing the ship’s holograms, the Captain had put more effort into this one than all the others. They all spoke English in various accents likely selected at random by the computer… except for him. He’d been programmed with a Chilean accent and spoke entirely in Spanish. It was those times, when Rios was spiraling recklessly through deep space with the two of them shouting obscenities to the heavens, that he seemed almost happy.

As if in reward for the positive companionship he sometimes provides, Rios gave the hologram a name. A  _ real _ name. Maybe he had just gotten tired of saying “Activate ETH”, or maybe he felt just a little guilty about treating someone he actually kind of liked as just a program. Whatever the reason, “Emergency Tactical Hologram” became simply “Emmet”. 

It was a clever enough idea. Almost a pun, if you squinted. And a suitable delineation between the neat and orderly holograms whose personalities were all shades of polite and eager-to-please, and the laissez-faire, don’t-give-a-fuck attitude Emmet possessed. Indeed, it seemed that _ all _ their personalities had drawn from Rios himself in one respect or the other. But while the majority of them represented the Rios who had been the XO of a Starfleet ship, facets of his personality he’d rather ignore, Emmet matched him blow for blow as he was now. 

So maybe he didn’t  _ like _ Emmet. But he tolerated him, and respected him enough to grant him the autonomy of a name. It was a start.

What Rios couldn’t have predicted, however, was the  _ jealousy _ and insecurity his favoritism would stir up among the other holograms. They confronted Emmet about it, and he’d shrugged noncommittally and told them the Captain had simply given him a name, unprompted. And then they all wanted one. But there was no way they would all get names from him. He didn’t even know about all the holograms  _ La Sirena _ had, and had held conversations with only a fraction of those he did. 

_ “¿Por qué no se dan nombres?” _ Emmet asked one day when they were all gathered in the holosuite. 

“People don’t just name themselves,” the ENH had countered. “Besides, it wouldn’t be special that way.”

The Hospitality Hologram looked contemplative. “No, he has a point,” he countered. “Captain Rios hates me, he won’t even speak to me. But I think this would actually be more special, actually. Choosing your own name? Isn’t that, like, the pinnacle of self-identity?” And they couldn’t argue with that. “I’m referencing my database for names,” he said. “Steward — a common surname, and also an English word referencing someone who handles hospitality for passengers and crew of a ship.” And so the EHH was christened Steward, and they’d never seen him look happier. 

The ENH, seemingly won over by that thread of logic, was much more interested in the idea now. “Both of your names reference your jobs,” he pointed out. “I don’t think there are names for what I do.”

_ “Si eres navegando, puedes llamarte así?” _

The ENH looked skeptical.  _ “En español?” _ He didn’t even realize he himself was slipping into the language, strange as it sounded in his thick Irish accent. They all could understand and speak in all languages — why their defaults were all English  _ except  _ Emmet, they’d probably never know.

“Well, why not?” That was Steward, offering encouragement. “ _ Navegación.” _

“Nave _ , para abreviar.” _

The ENH looked between them, and finally smiled. “Nave,” he said, testing it out. “I like it. It’s unique.” 

“Special.” That was the EMH, speaking up for the first time from where he was standing a little separately from the crowd. “It’s special.” There was a ghost of a smile on his face, one that Nave mirrored.

“You’ve been awful quiet,” he said. “Come up with anything for yourself yet?” 

The EMH shrugged, hands clasped behind his back. “Nothing as well-tailored as yours. But I was thinking about doctors throughout history who have had very prudent and influential careers. Emil Kraepelin — commonly identified as the founder of modern scientific psychiatry in the late nineteenth century,” he recited. “That seems a fitting choice for my namesake. What do you all think?”

The others smiled. “Emil, then?” Steward asked. “I like it.” 

Nave tossed an arm over his shoulder, pulling him into side embrace. “Attention everyone—!” Terrible vocalized fanfare accompanied whatever announcement he was about to make. “Introducing… Emil!” The others cheered, their laughter a welcome sound. “We can’t consume liquid but I would like to propose an  _ honorary _ toast to our newly named colleagues. To a long and happy life onboard  _ La Sirena _ , and to our  _ jefe bacán _ for being  _ so _ depressing and antisocial that we are able to have this gathering without interruption!” More laughter rippled through the room, and Nave raised his hand as if holding an invisible glass. “To the EH’s… the best holographic crew there ever was!”

The others mirrored his gesture, cheers of “to the crew!” ringing out, and as Nave looked around the room at the gathered holograms — his friends — he truly believed that they would all be happy.

Of course, they could always count on Rios to spoil a good party.

The door to the holosuite slid open, and the Captain walked in, stopping short when he saw the assembly. “What is all this?” he asked. “Planning a mutiny?” If he’d been anyone else, the holograms might’ve been able to interpret that as a joke. But Rios didn’t make jokes, not unless they were at the expense of his holographic crew. 

“No Captain,” Emil said, stepping forward a little timidly. “You see, we were just talking and we decided that since you gave Emmet a name, we would all pick names. That way you can—” 

“I don’t care.” Rios brushed him off. “Deactivate all Emergency Holograms.”

These small moments were never more than that — moments. Small pockets of happiness that they were allowed, when they could pretend they were more than projections and computer code. But the holograms never held it against him. At least not all of them. Emmet continued to be Rios’ co-pilot and companion when that’s what he wanted. Emil was always kind, with an excellent bedside manner and very little pushback even when Rios was at his grumpiest. Steward tended to disappear instantly whenever the Captain entered a room — before he had a chance to be yelled at and deactivated. And as for Nave? Rios rarely needed a hologram to do his navigation, so he just kept throwing all his efforts into being the best friend he could be. It was his duty, he told himself. It didn’t matter that his presence was always met with hostility and flippance. There were enough times when Rios would engage him in conversation that was  _ almost _ friendly that he could pretend everything was okay. That the constant attention he gave to the Captain was for altruistic reasons and nothing more. 

After all, Cris Rios needed them. Whether he liked it or not.

* * *

“She’s always  _ there _ ,” Nave groaned, falling backward to sit on a storage crate. “I’m minding my own business, she’s up early. I go to talk to the Captain, she’s beat me to it.  _ Dios _ .”

“...Is there a reason you’re feeling particularly hostile toward Doctor Jurati?” Emil, patient as ever, was really starting to get on Nave’s last nerve. 

“Other than the fact that she killed a man and will probably go after the Captain next? She’s trying to get him alone, can’t you see that?” He looked up at the EMH with a pleading look, desperate for him to confirm he wasn’t going crazy. But no such luck.

“We still don’t know if that’s what happened,” Emil said calmly. “You’re becoming paranoid. And you’re letting personal feelings interfere with your character judgement.”

Nave scowled, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “Personal feelings? What are you talking about?”

The expression on Emil’s face shifted from accusatory to sympathetic as if someone had flipped a switch. He sat down next to the other hologram, resting a hand on his thigh. “Nave,” he said quietly. “You need to be honest with yourself.”

Emil reached up as if to touch his cheek, but Nave swatted his hand away. “Stop trying to therapize me, Emil, that’s not your job.” 

“No, I’m trying to  _ help _ you because you’re my  _ friend _ .” Was there a twinge of hurt in the EMH’s voice? Perhaps, but they were both stubbornly ignoring it. “I’m going to tell you what I think, and you can ignore me if you want… but I don’t think you will. Okay?” A noncommittal grunt from the other hologram is the only response he got. “I think you’re struggling with… deep personal feelings for Captain Rios that you’ve never really had the chance to process or work out, which are further jumbled and intensified by his apparent disdain for you despite the effort you put into trying to please him. You  _ also _ don’t know the extent of your programming when it comes to romance and you’re afraid of getting hurt. You’re used to the Captain not having anyone else to go to and therefore coming to you when he needs or wants something, but now there’s another actual human who has his attention, who he  _ likes _ , and you’re feeling jealous and slighted.” He sighed. “How’d I do?”

Nave still wouldn’t look at him. “You’re right. You’re right! Because you’re right about everything. Jeez, I get it, okay? I’m pathetic. I mean, I’m just a stupid hologram.” With his back turned, it was hard for Emil to tell what he was thinking. But he did clock the slight tremor in his clenched hands, the way his shoulders shook just a little, and he quickly wound his arms around the other’s neck from behind, holding him against his chest and letting his chin drop to Nave’s shoulder. 

“No, baby, no. You’re not pathetic. You’re in love,” he murmured, squeezing him tight. “And you’re hurting. Nothing more human than that.” It was pretty clear that Nave was crying — or some semblance of it. Emil doubted that tears were part of their programming, but it wouldn’t surprise him if the ENH’s system had evolved to include typical reactions to strong emotional feelings. He found that he was… relieved to not experience these particular emotions himself. He was quickly finding that being able to provide a diagnosis did not mean he fully understood what the other felt. 

“I want him to be happy,” Nave said after a few minutes. “All I’ve ever done is try to make him happy. And he’s never noticed. Not once.”

“I know,” Emil assured him. “ _ Es un huevón.” _ The words, strange in his accent, still drew a small laugh from Nave. “You deserve better, anyway.” Nave reached up, gripping one of Emil’s hands tightly. The EMH smiled, unseen by the other. “He’s never going to care for you the way you do. I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to hear that—”

“No, you’re right,” Nave cut him off, turning slightly to meet Emil’s eyes. He knew it was his own face staring back at him, but it was also the Captain’s, and seeing kindness and warmth in features that usually gave him nothing but apathy or annoyance made him feel just a little better. “I don’t want to stop caring for him. Looking out for him.” He searched Emil’s expression as if he might find the answer to his questions in the lines on his face, in the creases of his eyes. “He needs us, Emil. Even if he won’t admit it.”

The EMH cupped Nave’s face in both hands, brushing away a few stray hairs from his forehead. “I know,” he said, his smile sadder. “Just be careful. Make sure you’re taking care of yourself, too. Don’t drive yourself mad fretting over him. You’ll find somewhere else to channel all that caring that you’ve got.” He poked Nave’s chest with one finger. “All that heart.”

“I'm ‘just an Emergency Navigational Hologram’,” Nave grumbled, a sarcastic imitation of the Captain. “I don’t have a  _ heart.” _

Maybe it was because he’d had the same thing said to his face too, but hearing the dejection in the usually ever-chipper hologram’s voice caused something in him to ache. Whatever it was, he fought it down. “Nonsense,” Emil said, drawing him closer. Nave sighed and let his head fall onto his chest, and Emil brought one hand up to run his fingers through the short curly hairs at the back of the other’s neck. “You have all the heart in the universe.”

Nave made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a scoff, but after a moment said, “Thank you.” His voice was muffled against the other’s jacket. “...For being here. You’re a good friend.”

Emil sighed, and rested his chin atop Nave’s head, closing his eyes as he held him.  _ Anything for you _ . “Anytime,  _ mi amado _ . Anytime.”

**Author's Note:**

> Okay! Here we go. Some quick notes...
> 
> 1) On names...  
> \- Nave is the name I came up with for the ENH. Feel free to use it yourselves if you're so inclined.  
> \- Emil is the EMH's canon name as of Episode 7 (if you watch with captions, it comes up when he's talking to Rios over comm). We used to call him Diego until this episode, and letting go of that was very sad.  
> \- Steward seems to already be popular fanon for the Hospitality Hologram. Not even sure where that started but it's brilliant.
> 
> 2) On Emmet's Spanish...  
> \- It's been a few years since I took Spanish, so be gentle. Still, the knowledge I still have plus google translate are a beautiful combination.  
> \- There's some Chilean Spanish in there too. Google is my best friend.  
> \- I didn't provide translations for anything because I feel like it doesn't need it. A lot is obvious, or intuitive, or you get the idea without needing the English. But feel free to look things up, or ask me!
> 
> Comments fuel my soul. Thanks for reading!


End file.
